


Beer

by KingNightRipper



Series: Addiction [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Batman References, Beer, Binge Drinking, Dreams and Nightmares, Drinking, Excessive Drinking, Fear, Hangover, Heavy Drinking, Killing, Large Cock, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Nightmares, Sleep, Sleep Deprivation, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting, bud light oktoberfest, cum, fear of Batman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:35:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26877547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingNightRipper/pseuds/KingNightRipper
Summary: Killer Croc has considerably unhealthy habits. Killing people and Drinking. Lots and lots of drinking
Series: Addiction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007751
Kudos: 3





	1. My Name

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea that Killer Croc, after failing at life, became a raging alcoholic.  
> Enjoy ;)

He could feel the deep excitement coursing through his veins. Like a poison. A drug. Slowly making its way into his head. At some point he knew he would be overtaken by it. The power. The fear. The blood lust. The anger. The deep-rooted rage. He could feel it inside him. Writhing about like a deadly snake. 

One.

Two.

Three. 

He paused. Slowed his breathing. Slowed his heart. His racing mind. The man in front of him did the same. He could see his chest rising and falling. A show of his powerful lungs. His breath fogging up the glass. 

“My name is Killer Croc.” he growled at the mirror. He watched his nostrils flare as the low angry voice filled the room. His fists clenched and he gritted his teeth. He slowly flicked his tail. 

Again he slowed his breathing. Slowed his heart. His rage. His hate. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

He was still. Where he crouched on the dirty white tile of his bathroom. His throat was burning. His eyes too. He could feel the snake in him. Squirming in his belly. Pushing to get out. 

Once more. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

He stood carefully so he didn’t ram his head into the ceiling and walked out of the grimy bathroom. His tail swishing behind him. 

He tramped over to the fridge and pulled a beer out. His favorite, Bud light Oktoberfest. He flicked the top off with his clawed thumb and took a long swig from the burning liquid. He felt it travel down into his stomach. Calming the snake. He breathed out. Slowly. 

He emptied the can down his throat and crushed it in his claws. It was thrown into the half full trash bucket. He dragged himself back over to the fridge to pull out another Bud light. Popping the cap with his claw that beer underwent a similar fate as the first one had. 

He drank 6 more beers that night. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Breathing. Slowly. Calming the deep rage inside of him. 

He walked into his living room with it’s stained couch and messy coffee table. There was a noticeable indent from where he had laid drunk so many nights before. He pressed the button to turn the TV on, with it’s misty, cracked glass. It was tuned into the news channel broadcasting the daily happenings of Gotham city. He jammed his thumb into the other button. It turned on a show he used to watch. 

He slumped back onto the couch and closed his eyes. Visions of giant wings and pointed ears filled his mind. He turned onto his side and massaged his temples before falling into a deep sleep. 

He woke with a full bladder from his drinking spree. Wandering into the bathroom he unbuttoned and unzipped his dark blue jeans with the tears from his claws. He then slipped the waistband of his underwear down until his cock sprang out. He proceeded to empty his bladder into the disgusting toilet. 

It was then that he had the uncontrollable urge to kill something. 

He fixed his pants and stomped back out to the living room. It took his eyes a second to focus but when they finally did he whipped around to grab his coat from it’s hanger in the closet. Once it was on he stumbled over to the door. 

And took a deep breath. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

He could feel his muscles quivering. Shaking. He flexed his knuckles and then pulled the door open. The hallway was quiet. He checked his pocket for his key and then slammed the door shut behind him. 

It took him exactly 1 minute to get down the stairs and out onto the street. It was 1:34 AM and he knew no one but the murders and rapists would be out. Just like him. He walked down the street with his head down and hands jammed into his coat pockets. He paused to look around for any signs of life. He heard barely disguised footsteps behind him and whirled around to stare at the tall man before him.

He was 7’6 and 346 pounds. This creep would take nothing to kill. The man looked to be about 6 feet tall and probably weighed 170 something pounds. While he was analyzing his opponent the other lunged forwards with a large diving knife in hand. 

The crocodile man stepped to the side and grabbed the attackers arm with one hand. He crushed the bones in his forearm and the man screamed in pain. With his other hand he slashed his claws across the other’s chest. The man’s well defined pecs were turned into little ribbons of flesh. He snapped his jaws around the man’s ruined chest and crunched down. 

The screams abruptly stopped. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Breathing. Deeply. Slowly. 

He ran his hands across the corpse in search of money or anything else of use. He pulled 2 wadded 20's out of a bloody pants pocket. Taking the diving knife in one hand and the money in the other he proceeded to clip the knife to his jeans and jammed the cash into his jacket’s pocket. 

Walking down the poorly lit street he paused when he saw the flashing open sign at the liquor store. He shouldered his way into the shop. In his reckless abandon he smashed his snout into the door frame. Grunting in pain he clutched at his pulsing mouth. He ducked and made it into the store without another incident. 

He turned his head towards the back coolers and walked over. He made his way over to the Bud light section. He searched for the familiar case with an orange label. Once he found it he stumbled back over to the counter. The clerk was the one who always worked from midnight to 6 AM. They were well acquainted. 

He slapped the 20's on the counter and nodded at the man. He gave the crocodile man a grim smile. 

He walked out of the store and back to his apartment with the beer case in hand. He lumbered up the stairs which took him 2 minutes and 37 seconds. 

His feet took him to his apartment door and he stumbled into it. He dug in his pocket for the key and jammed it into the doorknob. The door swung open and he shuffled into the entryway. 

He collapsed on the floor and clutched his head. It hurt so bad. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Breaths. 

God it hurt. 

He pulled his coat off and shivered. 

He tried again. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

He breathed deeply. He tried to calm the rage. The fear. The pain. 

The snake. Deep in his belly. Ready to lash out. 

Hell. 

He shook off the growing ache in his head and stood up. He clutched the case of beer to his chest and stumbled over to the fridge. He set the beer on the shelf and let the door fall closed. 

He walked over to the couch and turned off the still playing TV. He crouched down before putting his whole weight on the cushions. He let his eyes close. 

Sleep came quickly. Overtaking the ache in his head and the pain behind his eyes. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Slowly breathing. Slowly calming. 

Slowly. 


	2. Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hang overs are hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update!  
> Sorry for the wait I've had a lot on my plate  
> Thanks for the support  
> Enjoy :)

He woke with a start. There had been nightmares of the Batman. The insignia on his chest was forever burned into his heart, soul and brain. His head hurt. One too many beers. He hated hangovers. It was almost enough to stop him from drinking. Almost. 

He sat up too fast and his vision paid the price. His head hurt even more. He forced himself to get up. He walked into the bathroom and began undoing his jeans when the sudden urge to vomit filled his abused senses. He lurched forward into the toilet and emptied his stomach of everything in his system. The smell was unbearable. 

He retched again and the smell of alcohol mixed with bile filled the dingy bathroom. He sat panting on the dirty tile and reached for the handle to flush his vomit away. He stood slowly and turned to the sink and scooped the cold water over his snout and face. He filled the small glass he kept in the room and drank it down. 

His throat was burning horribly as he brushed his long fangs to get the small chunks of vomit dislodged from his mouth. He sucked on his teeth for a moment before taking another long drink of water. 

He shuffled out of the bathroom before realizing he still had to piss. He turned around and continued where he left off in undoing his jeans. He slipped his cock out into his hand and relaxed. The sound of his urine hitting the water was soothing in a way. When he was finished he gripped his cock tight in his hand. He found himself going through the motions. Squeezing in certain places and barely touching others. He sped up slightly and felt his thick cock fill out more in his hand. He grunted with pleasure and let his heaving breaths fill the room. 

He tugged on his cock with reckless abandon and felt his orgasm approaching. He groaned loudly as he came. His cum splattered in and around the toilet. He floated in the post orgasmic pleasure for a few seconds. Once it had faded he tucked his flaccid cock back into his pants. 

He zipped his jeans back up and fumbled with the button for a second. Once it was secure he walked out of the bathroom. For the first time in a couple days he went into his bedroom. He paused and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. In the far left corner was a mattress in poor condition, in the right corner he had a bookshelf with no books and in the corner on his left was a large dresser. He walked over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. 

At that moment he decided to take a shower. He pulled out a clean pair of underwear and jeans. He also grabbed a t-shirt which displayed a smiling skull with pointed teeth. He tramped back to the bathroom and turned the handle while simultaneously pulling on the plug that switched the stream of water to the shower head. 

While waiting for it to get warm he undressed. He stood naked in the room in a matter of seconds. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. A tall man with scales, a crocodile snout and a tail. His eyes carefully scanned across the many scars littering his muscled chest and stomach. He looked himself in the eyes noticing the long scar over his left eye. That attack had narrowly missed his eye sparing his vision. 

Steam started to cloud the already misty mirror. He turned away from his reflection and stepped into the shower pulling the plain white curtain closed behind him. He slowly washed his grimy body with it’s days old sweat and the reek of alcohol. The soap he was using was something he had bought from a store 6 months ago. He had been rationing it in hopes that he wouldn’t have to go look for a new scent. He cast aside his care and squeezed a generous amount onto his palm. He rubbed it on his chest and abs before moving to his legs. He went back up and thoroughly lathered his giant cock and balls. 

He swung his tail over to himself and rubbed in between the spikes and scrubbed his scales clean. The last thing he did was run his hands down his back. He paused near his hole. He thought for a second about entering himself but decided against it. He turned off the water and pulled the shower curtain aside. He stepped out and grabbed a towel. 

As he was drying off he caught glimpses of himself in the mirror. When he was dry he grabbed the underwear and pulled it up his legs until his cock was safely nestled in the warm confines. Then he grabbed the jeans and pulled those on. Once his tail was adjusted he zipped and buttoned the pants. 

He considered going shirtless but ended up pulling it over his head until it rested comfortably. He then brushed his teeth again and walked out of the bathroom. He went back into his bedroom and grabbed a 20 from a box on the bookshelf. He shoved it into his jeans pocket and then went back out to the living room. He grabbed his coat off the floor and pulled it on. 

He opened the apartment door and checked for his key. 

Just like always it was there. In place as usual. 

He stepped out into the hallway and allowed himself 5 seconds of reprieve to look around the hall. Then he was walking down it. His tail dragging behind him. Once out on the street he took a breath. And then another one. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

He blinked. His eyes were burning. He didn’t know why. But they hurt. He walked slowly. Avoided the gazes of the normal people. They would never accept him. He was an outsider. A killer. A monster. And that would never be different. He knew that. 

He smiled. His pointed teeth digging into his lips. It hurt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading  
> Feel free to drop a comment or kudos  
> Love you guys  
> Stay tuned


	3. Wishful Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we are alone in our darkness. There's the one light. And when that flickers out. We die too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :)  
> I really didn't know how to end this story

He needed to fuck something. Well other than his hand. It had been so long since he’d buried his cock in someone’s ass. But It wasn’t like anyone wanted to get fucked by a monster like him. His teeth would just as soon kiss someone as rip their head off. 

The only (sorta) relationship he’d ever had was with a broken man (just like him). 

Roy Harper. His (maybe) ex (hopefully not) boyfriend (wishful thinking) had moved on and become a ‘superhero’. Arsenal. A bow wielding titan. He had definitely moved on.

Roy didn’t hate him for his looks. He didn’t look at him with disgust. There was nothing but kindness in that soul. Well, behind the broken shadow of pain in his green eyes. It hurt him to know that. 

He couldn’t help. He had never helped anyone. There was no one that wanted his help. 

That was when he stopped trying. He hated himself. He hated his life. He hated his ugly fucking face. His fucking tail. The shitty scales all over his body. 

He hated. The rage. The pain. 

Roy had been the one thing dragging him out of his darkness. Out of his cave. 

Now Roy was gone. There was nothing left. 

He grabbed another beer. Popped the cap. Downed it and slammed the empty bottle on his head. 

One. Two. Three. His fucking ass. No more restraints. 

-END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate this chapter but you know what?
> 
> Anyways   
> Thanks for the support  
> Stay tuned for more crazy ideas from yours truly

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I literally don't know anything about beer so I tried  
> Stay tuned :)


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